


hearts remote yet not asunder

by 100hearteyes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Childhood Friends, Clexa are soulmates, F/F, Falling In Love, Hate to Love, gays in space, more people show up but those are the most important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100hearteyes/pseuds/100hearteyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen years ago, Clarke and her soulmate were given matching necklaces that would help them always find each other, wherever they would go. Now, Clarke is a prisoner in her own home and to save her people, she must find the girl she unconsciously promised her heart to all those years ago. Little does she know the secrets that all those years helped create.</p><p>or</p><p>Gays in space. And soulmates. What more do you need?</p><p>(Title from Shakespeare's "The Phoenix and the Turtle")</p>
            </blockquote>





	hearts remote yet not asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But oh! how unlike marble was that face:  
> How beautiful, if sorrow had not made  
> Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self."
> 
> — John Keats, "Hyperion"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how I do the transitions:  
> time transition (same place) - blank space  
> time and place transition (or just a time jump like the following day) - asterisk  
> flashbacks and year(s)/month(s) time jumps, or change of POV - that separating line thing
> 
> The title of this chapter is from the poem "The Growth of Love", by Robert Seymour Bridges.

**16 years ago**

Two little girls played, running around and laughing in the field of the greenest grass both of them would ever see. One of them was eight, curly brown hair and expressive green eyes; the other was six, golden hair and bright blue eyes, but they acted as though they were the same age. Such was their connection that age erected no boundary between them. Their parents watched over them while sitting on the grass, smiles on their faces, aware of how much the two small girls already loved each other without even knowing what love is.

"I'm so glad that we can just travel from one planet to the other and watch them play like this," one of the mothers said, staring fondly at her blonde-haired daughter. She took her husband's hand and squeezed it. "Jake is devising a ship that can allow us to travel even faster."

Jake chuckled. "You make me out to be some kind of genius, Abby."

"Which you are," she affirmed resolutely.

The other father's features darkened. "I only hope there are two planets to travel between when you finish it."

"Hosh, Apoth," his wife scolded him. "Now is not the time to think about those things."

He bowed is head and apologised, "Forgive me, my friends. You are right, let us keep the mood light and happy."

The other two parents smiled sympathetically. "Everything'll be alright," Jake said, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.

A few minutes of blissful silence followed until Abby broke it. "Alexandria," she called the other woman. "I think it's time to give them the presents."

Alexandria smiled widely, her green eyes like her daughter's shining. She nodded and stood up, moving to sit down next to the other woman. They called the two small girls over. The pair came running quickly, chubby faces flustered from their adventures and sporting wide grins.

Abby searched her purse while Alexandria talked to the girls. "What we are about to give you will allow you to find each other wherever you are." The two children blinked, utterly confused.

The woman chuckled. "We will show you."

Abby pulled out two necklaces, one with a blue orb as pendant and the other with a red one. The girls looked at them in awe.

"Come here, Clarke," Alexandria coaxed, and the blonde girl moved to stand before her. The green-eyed woman took the necklace with the red orb from Abby's hands and stretched her own around Clarke's neck. She gently tugged the girl around and joined the two tips together. Metallic chords, like small, worm-like tentacles, came out of each tip and wrapped around each other, effectively tying the necklace around Clarke's neck.

Abby pulled the other girl to her by the hand and did the same. The necklace with the blue orb was around the small brunette just moments later.

The two small girls beamed at each other, radiant with the presents their mothers had given them.

"Clarke look," said the older girl. "We have matching necklaces."

All four parents grinned at the two girls' sheer happiness.

"Join them," Abby told them with a wry smile. "Bring the the necklaces together."

So the girls did. As soon as they were a mere couple of inches apart, the two necklaces orbited towards each other like magnets and fused together into a single, slightly bigger magenta orb. Both girls' eyes widened impossibly and they squealed with excitement. Theirs were the best presents ever.

"Now wherever or whenever you are," Alexandria spoke, "you can always find your way back to each other." She cupped both girls' cheeks with her hands. "The connection you share... it is both a blessing and your greatest weapon," she finished with a fond smile.

The older girl tugged at the other's hand. "Let's go play, Clarke."

"Playing is over for today," Apoth declared as the four adults stood up. The kids' faces fell. "But we will all be back tomorrow."

The little girls cheered, happy that they would be seeing each other again so soon. Abby and Jake tugged Clarke's hand, while Apoth and Alexandria took their daughter's. They all said their goodbyes and headed in their respective directions.

After only a couple of minutes, however, as though taken by a sensation of foredoom, Clarke tugged at her parents' hands, making them halt in their tracks, and looked over her shoulder. And there she was, her best friend in the whole galaxy, big beautiful green eyes looking back at her too.

Both girls let go of their parents' hands and ran to each other as if they were going to spend years apart instead of less than a day. They ran and ran, until they found each other in an earnest hug. It was a passionate embrace, as they held each other like their very lives depended on it.

"Goodbye Clarke," the brunette spoke in muffled mumbles into golden hair.

The small blonde leaned back to gaze into those wondrous green eyes. "Goodbye Hera," she whispered, and placed a tender kiss on the other girl's cheek. With that, she turned away and ran to her parents.

Little Hera watched her leave with wide eyes and parted lips. She felt the tips of her ears burn, the skin in her arms was tingling, and her heart was thumping in her chest. She swallowed, taking a last look at flowing golden hair, and turned to walk back to her parents. Only then did she realise that the warmth she felt in her chest and ears had spread to her neck and cheeks and her heart was already aching at the separation. Had she been a little older, she would have been able to put a word to what she was feeling, and felt, for the blonde. At only eight years old, however, she was simply content to feel. Her lips tore into a wide grin and she fondly gripped the orb pending from her neck, chest puffing with the remembrance that she would see Clarke again tomorrow.

 

But that never happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke woke up as the lights of the Ark got brighter, announcing the arrival of a new day. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, entirely tired of the same routine day after day. What a prison, Clarke thought as she swung her legs off the bed. Gone were the times when she was allowed to leave the Ark for six months every two years and to have guests over anytime she wanted. Now she was stranded there every hour of every day of every month of every year. Her whole life would be spent in that spacial dumpster.

Well. Only if she could not help it.

"Today is the day," Clarke told herself as she got out of bed. Today was the day she would finally be free— and the beginning of the end of the days of prison for her people. Those on the Ark and outside of it. If it all went according to plan, today she would get out, and then she would be able to eventually save her people. Putting the cart before the horse was dangerous, though, so for now she would be content to just leave this godforsaken prison. "Political space station," she laughed bitterly. "Yeah right."

Clarke had dreamed of the day she would get out since the rules had changed four years ago. Until then, it had been hard, but each time the first 18 months were gone and she could finally travel around the galaxy, all her problems went up in smoke. All of a sudden, however, Directive 319 had been imposed and she had no longer been allowed to ever leave the Ark or have any guests. All of a sudden, everything had changed. And it had been her fault.

If only she had realised that they would never let her leave. If only she had not been naïve.

"You were just a kid," her mother had said, hoping to make her feel better. "You didn't know any better." Well, she should have. She should have known better. Maybe then the roughly thousand inhabitants of the Ark would be at least mildly free.

Everything was going change, though. It was, Clarke would make sure of that. She would rather die than see her plan fail.

Clarke got dressed and headed to the mess hall, where she found her trio of friends waiting for her. Wells Jaha, and Octavia and Bellamy Blake. Her friendship with both Octavia and Bellamy was a little tense at times, she knew they secretly (not so much in the girl's case) blamed her for Directive 319. Clarke did not mind it though; she blamed herself too. Wells, on the other hand, had another perspective on the case. He had told her that had it not been her, someone else would have tried escaping; it had only been a matter of time. There were days when Clarke felt brave enough to believe him. Most of the time, however, she simply shouldered everyone else's opinion.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy greeted Clarke with a smirk, which caused her to roll her eyes.

"Hi guys," she smiled as she sat down in front of Wells and across from Octavia. He welcomed her with a bright smile, whereas the brunette high fived her over the table. "Everyone ready?"

They all nodded, sober expressions on their faces. "Just try not to get us into too much trouble," Octavia said.

"You can still drop out if you want," Clarke replied with slight irritation. They all knew the stakes. They all (Clarke included) had wanted her to be the one to escape. Why doubt her now? "Look. I'll get out, I'll find her, and then I'll come get you."

"How do you even know she's alive?"

"We've gone over this already. I don't know, I just— I can feel it, okay? I can feel it."

"Risking our lives for a 'feeling' is madness," Bellamy backed his sister.

"Guys," Wells intervened. "If you had any objections you should have made when we were planning this. It's too late now. We either do this or we don't, but if we do, then we have to trust each other completely."

The Blake siblings sighed. "Alright," Bellamy relented. "Wells is right, it's now or never. We can't be doubting each other at this stage."

Octavia nodded and looked apologetically to Clarke, who forgave her with a smile. "Just be careful, okay, Clarke?"

The blonde's smile softened, thankful now. "You too."

 

"You want to spend the day with me?"

Clarke shrugged, thinking maybe she should feel offended by the disbelief in her mother's voice and facial expression. Today was not the day for that, though. "Yes."

"Are you sick?" Abby asked, and what really annoyed Clarke was seeing genuine concern in motherly brown eyes.

"No, mom," she replied with irritation. "I just— can't I wish to spend some quality time with my mother without an ulterior motive?"

Abby's lips broke into a smile. "Of course, baby. Of course you can." She pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, mom."

Clarke felt bad. Abby was right; she was spending time with her mother due to her impending escape from the Ark. But what could Clarke say? She could not just tell Abby that she was leaving to perhaps never come back. She wanted to come back; but there was no guarantee. So today, she made sure to spend as much time as possible with her mother to make up for the lack of a proper goodbye. It hurt to even think that Clarke might never see her again.

That day it felt like they were three again, instead of two. Her father was always an overbearing presence between mother and daughter, but this time it was more like a sweet memory instead of a scarring ghost. Clarke and Abby talked, played some board games, danced to some old classics Jake loved, and overall enjoyed by far the best day together since he died.

At five pm, just before Clarke would leave to join her friends, the two shared a heartfelt hug. Abby held her daughter close and tight, as though she never wanted to let go. "Do you really have to do this?" she whispered, and Clarke was not sure she had really heard it. When she leaned back to look at her mother, Abby was wearing a knowing but sad smile. "I'm not stupid, Clarke. I can't say I support it, but... You have the heart of a hero, like your father. You both make me so proud," the woman added, and now her smile was soft and nostalgic.

Clarke lowered her gaze and sighed dejectedly. "I'm sorry, mom."

"No." Abby placed two fingers under her daughter's chin and tilted it up so blue eyes would meet her brown ones. "I'm proud of you, Clarke. Even if I wish you wouldn't go."

The blonde felt tears run down her cheeks and could not keep a sob from tearing up her throat. "Will I see you again?"

"I don't know," her mother answered honestly. "I certainly hope so."

"I love you so much," Clarke sobbed.

"I know, sweetie," Abby replied softly. "I love you too. So, so much." She cradled her daughter's cheeks in both her hands, wiping the tears away with her thumbs and meeting cerulean gaze with intensity. "Find her. The walls have ears so I can't tell you much, but there is something very important in the heart of Polis that only she can unlock. She's the key to everything."

Clarke nodded, but then a gnawing doubt came up. "How do I even know that she's alive?"

"If you're looking for her, then she is."

 

It was not too complex a plan. Octavia had to create a ruckus in the mess hall, which was close to the hangar and would therefore drag a lot of guards her way and away from the hangar. Bellamy had to shut down the power on the Ark (all switches except the oxygen vents and processors, otherwise everyone would die) so Clarke could enter the hangar and take a ship without being noticed. Clarke had to slip in the hangar and take a SHC stealth jet, which had a cloak mechanism that would make the craft invisible to both naked eye and radars. In turn, Wells would be coordinating the whole operation, maintaining radio communication with the other three, as well as opening the hangar doors. It was easy. Until it wasn't.

Clarke was waiting for the signal, which would be the launch of the pod. She had dressed mainly in dark blue and hidden her blonde hair under a loose hood, which allowed her to walk around relatively unnoticed against the walls of the Ark.

A siren sounded along the halls, yellow lights flashing in the ceilings. At least three dozen guards ran past Clarke headed to the mess hall and she smiled; Octavia had succeeded to draw attention, more even than they had predicted, which was perfect. Then the lights went out and Clarke set off towards the hangar.

It was so easy. Clarke sped past the bigger ships and medium vehicles, until she got to the smaller crafts. She hopped into one of the ten SHC stealth jets and started it, losing no time. It was a small craft, with only a minimal entrance chamber, a two-people cockpit, and of course, a control room. It was not designed for overnight or longer trips, as evidenced by the lack of a bed or any other type of comfortable furniture. Clarke lifted the craft off the ground and flew it out of the already open hangar doors. Just as soon as she was out of the Ark, Clarke turned on the cloaking mechanism.

Or at least she tried.

Frowning when it didn't work the first time, Clarke pushed the button again. Nothing. Panic started rising in her chest. Great, she had picked the one ship out of ten that had a malfunction. If the cloaking didn't work right now, their plan would fail. She picked up her radio and pressed the button to talk.

"Wells!" Clarke cried into the device.

"Clarke?" his voice answered immediately. "Clarke are you on your way?"

"The cloaking. The cloaking, Wells, i—it's not working, what should I do?"

"Shit," he hissed. After two or three seconds, he spoke again, "go on like nothing happened, I've got a plan."

With that, he cut the connection and Clarke was left with the feeling that whatever idea he had had, it was not a good one. She kept flying away from the Ark, glad that no one had noticed her yet, but worried for her friends' safety. She kept frantically pushing the button, hoping that it would finally work. The power was about to go back up and then the guards would certainly see her escaping.

The lights turned back on and Clarke turned for a moment to take a look behind her at the hangar. Her eyes widened like they never had and her heart leapt out of her chest. Wells was running like a madman in the middle of the hangar, drawing everyone's attention, and running for a shuttle. Clarke resumed pushing the cloak button, desperately now.

"Work, you stupid— fuck!" she growled, slamming her fist on the dashboard. Not stopping her attempts, Clarke flew to an angle where she was able to watch what went on but be practically out of sight, at least for the moment. A crackling sound came from her radio and she picked it right up. "Wells?!" Clarke cried out, terrified for her best friend.

"Clarke, run!" he yelled from the other side of the line. "I'll get you some time, now go!"

A small shuttle sped out of the hangar like a rocket, and several other crafts following it in a frenzy. "What the hell are you doing, Wells?! You'll get arrested!"

"And then you'll get me out," he assured, and Clarke could feel his bright and confident smile telling her that everything would be okay. "Now go. I love you, sister from another mister."

Clarke could not help a chuckle as her eyes brimmed with tears. "I love you too," she whispered hoarsely, and then all she heard was silence.

Clarke could not bring herself to look back. She turned her jet around and flew away, inserting the name of her destination into the UPS, while her thumb kept pushing the cloaking button endlessly. Suddenly the there was a loud growl coming from the control room and the words 'CLOAKING ACTIVATED' flashed on the screen of the dashboard. 

A frustrated scream burst from Clarke's lips and she slammed her hand on the dashboard in anger. She should have kept trying; she should have tried more, harder, better. She could have avoided Wells’ sacrifice and arrest. The plan could have worked smoothly. Things could have been fine. If only she had made the cloak work sooner; if only she had chosen any ship other than this one. Once again, it was all her fault.

*

Clarke realised how not made for long journeys her craft really was twenty hours in, when she had been trying to fall asleep for four hours. She was sitting on the pilot chair and her whole body ached from the position. There was no better solution nevertheless, so Clarke had to keep trying.

A beep coming the dashboard dictated the end of her attempts. Clarke saw there was a message informing her she had finally arrived at her destination, so she turned autopilot off and took control of the ship. Kuqala was a free transit planet, with few residential areas and lots of space to land, so she didn't have to identify herself or her craft. Clarke landed near the city her where UPS instructed she would find the place she was looking for and got off towards the city.

As soon as Clarke reached the big metallic gates, which were open, she saw the sign hanging over them: Othole. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the city.

It was like suddenly she had entered a whole new universe. The city was bustling, there were markets everywhere and every shop was full of people waltzing in an out. Clarke had not seen a city so alive for several years. She headed to the shop signalled in her UPS, walking past several groups of people talking, laughing, playing, running. Clarke had missed seeing faces other than the people on the Ark's.

When she reached the shop with the lettering 'Memori Memory', Clarke walked in. The first thing she noticed was how empty it was, unlike every other shop in town. The second thing she noticed was the shaggy-haired human man behind the counter, leaning lazily against it. His piercing blue eyes were charged with mirth and his smirk told Clarke right away that he was not someone to be trusted.

"Memori Memory, how can I help you?" he drawled uninterestedly with an aggravating smirk.

"I was told you could give me some information on how to find someone."

"Sweetheart, we don't find people here," he mocked. "But we can tell you who to talk to, to find who you're looking for."

"Good," Clarke stated. "How much is it?"

"You'll have to talk to Emori," he scoffed. "Price depends on the job, paid after it's done."

"What if you can't give me a good suggestion?"

He shrugged. "There's always a fixed tax for the service."

"How much?"

"Thirty quid."

Clarke opened the pouch strapped to her belt and pulled out two chips. "That's forty. Keep the change."

He smirked once again and pushed himself off the counter, heading to the back of the shop. Soon after, a beautiful girl with tattoos on her face and a covered hand came out and met Clarke with a smile, much more pleasant than the man's.

"Hi, I'm sorry for John's behaviour," the girl said sincerely. "He's not a bad guy, just too lazy to care."

Clarke smiled and waved it off. "It's okay. I've met worse. I'm Clarke by the way."

"Emori. Nice to meet you Clarke." They shook hands and headed to a small table to the side of the room. Emory sat down first on one of the love-seats and gestured for Clarke to sit down on the other, which the blonde did. "So tell me, what brings you here."

Clarke sighed. "I need someone who can help me find this person I'm looking for."

"That's vague," Emori smirked. "Got any further details?"

"I just really need the best in the galaxy, someone who will be willing to go on a dangerous trip if need be. I really can't give you anymore than that." The walls have ears is what had been left unsaid, but Emori was smart enough to understand.

The brunette brought her elbow to the arm of the love-seat and pinched the skin right below her lower lip, staring at Clarke for a long moment, brown eyes deep in thought. After a moment, she sighed and leaned forward.

"Look. I usually don't do this, but you seem desperate." Clarke nodded; that was pretty much undeniable. "There's this bounty hunter, she goes by the moniker Heda. She's the best of the best. If anyone can help you find your mystery person and keep you safe throughout, that's her. She's not cheap though."

"I have enough money to persuade her."

"Good. Then she will do the job. Just try not to piss her off," Emori chuckled.

Clarke frowned. "How do I do that?"

"Three very simple rules. Don't ask any personal questions, don't talk back to her, and never, ever, use a gun in her bar."

Clarke nodded, those were simple rules. Only an idiot would fail to follow them. "How do I find her?"

"Stadhouder, the capital of Providence, in the Guanahani solar system," Emori informed. "Ask for her at her bar, it's called Titus. Should be easy enough to find, everyone goes there."

"Isn't that the bounty hunter system?"

Emori quirked an eyebrow. "She is a bounty hunter, after all. Look, she's good people. Cold and bitchy," the woman smirked, "but better than most honas."

Clarke nodded and reached for her pouch, staring at Emori inquisitively. The brunette held up a handful of fingers. Clarke pulled out two chips the size as the ones she had given Murphy and a smaller one, and set them down on the table.

"Fifty quid, here you go," she said as she stood up. Emori stood up too. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." Emori smirked, "Just make sure you don't insult any of Heda's people. She's very protective of them."

Clarke smiled back and started to leave, but just as she was about to make her way out the door, a question made its way to her mind. She halted and turned, holding up a finger. "What did you mean, you don't usually do this? What don't you usually do?"

Emori tilted her head, examining Clarke carefully. Her lips curled into a wry smirk, eyes glittering with silent secrets. "Precipitate destiny."

Clarke's eyes narrowed. What a weird woman. Then, with a wave and a nod, she was making her way back to her ship.

After she left the shop, Murphy walked to stand beside Emori, shooting her a curious look. "Are you sure that was a good idea?"

The girl smiled and kissed his cheek. "They can't run away from who they are."

"But this will not affect just them," he frowned. "It will affect everyone. Rushing or forcing it could screw us all over."

"Relax, John," Emori drawled humorously. She surely was relaxed. "They just needed a little push."

"You say that like it's their fate."

"No." Emori turned and picked the chips from the table. "Unfortunately, it's not their fate. But it certainly is their destiny."

*

It was hard travelling around the galaxy avoiding UF checkpoints. They were everywhere, they dominated way over half of the galaxy, and were on their way to dominating the other half. Two of the few systems that were still independent were precisely Ilanga, where Kuqala was; and Guanahani, her destination. So Clarke was lucky with that as well as another thing: Guanahani was a free transit solar system, which meant she did not have to present any documentation whatsoever. Which made sense, considering it was home and trading post to all sorts of questionable characters.

The thieves were known to land in the planet closest to the star, Fos. Gwener, the second planet, was home to the prostitutes and all kinds of 'relief' for the hardworking scum of the galaxy. Providence was the home base for bounty hunters, who were surprisingly the most decent sort of all. They had proclaimed it the 'Bounty Republic' and had managed to build a reasonably civilised society. And then Spacewalkers. Clarke winced just thinking about it. Their home planet was Skaistrecha and was filled to the brim with hair-flipping, self-important, egotistic morons. After that, there was a dark zone with nothing there. Beyond it, the planet few dared visit: Ripa. Home to all kinds of killers.

Luckily, Clarke expected to never have to set foot on that planet. Instead, she followed the UPS instructions towards Providence and, once in its stratosphere, in the direction of the capital Stadhouder. There was the port, with its small craft section and valets. Clarke landed on one of the smaller spaces, just right for her ship and without a valet. It would be stupid to waste money on such needless luxury, besides hers was a UF craft (that she had, smartly, painted before leaving Kuqala), so the fewer people had access to it, the better.

While Kuqala was highly cosmopolitan, Stadhouder an exotic mess. Still, it was beautiful and fascinating. Some bounty hunters thought of themselves as the pirates of the new age, so they were all quite creative in their clothing, with long coats and knee-high boots and swords. Others preferred the technological approach, with helmets and metal suits and jetpacks and rayguns. Then there was the most common sort: a mix of the two.

As Clarke wandered the streets of Stadhouder, she managed to go unnoticed. There was such a variety of characters and people and species that no one really stood out in the crowd. Only ten minutes of walking in, Clarke found her destination. 'Titus' was a huge bar with red lettering on top of its front, well kept on the outside, with people strolling in an out of it, going in sober and leaving it drunk. It was grand and looked just like the type of bar that attracted everyone and had the best business in town.

Clarke's eyes widened the moment she entered the bar. It was lively, boisterous even, with an exotic feel to it. Several tables were spread across the single-story bar, and at each sat several people. Happy, foreign, string-heavy music filled the air, and waiting personnel skipped around the bar from table to table, juggling their trays and themselves amidst the festive anarchy.

Clarke took a seat on one of the few two person tables that sprinkled the room. Her gaze instantly flew to the only table of four in the bar, where a tense but hushed conversation seemed to be taking place. Three men discussed stiffly among themselves, whilst a girl sat between them, leaned back and arms crossed, one leg slung over the other, looking utterly bored and only mildly interested in the conversation.

The girl was beautiful, to say the least. The most outstanding characteristic were the bewitching green eyes that looked like they could actually glow. Her nose was elegant, framed by high cheekbones that told tales of fierceness and royalty. Her long chestnut curls were intricately braided and showed off a sharp jawline that seemed to have been sculptured by the hands of the most delicate, passionate, and talented artist. Her lips, possibly the most perfect of all of the girl's perfections (second only to the eyes), were full, pink, delectable. The kind of lips Clarke yearned to sink her teeth into and draw a lustful moan from; molded by scrupulous fingertips and the kisses of a muse, each word spoken by them surely as dangerous and alluring as the sirens' melody.

The girl caught Clarke staring, but instead of reacting with hostility or simply looking away, she held Clarke's gaze, green eyes peering into the blonde's blue with matching intensity and alluring curiosity, as though she were trying to know Clarke wholly with only a glance. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul though, so for a moment longer than merely a moment, Clarke actually believed that the beautiful stranger sitting a few tables away had indeed discovered a pathway and key to the crux of her ever existence.

They must have hung onto each other's gazes for several minutes, before the girl broke their link to whisper into one of the men's ears, making everyone at the table fall silent. He nodded at her words and stood up, then as if on cue, everyone started pulling all the tables aside.

Meanwhile, the girl stood up and headed towards Clarke's table. Once she was standing in front of Clarke, the blonde took the chance to examine her. The girl was wearing a long red coat, like a pirate's, with a ragged black top underneath. Covering her legs were dark grey tight pants and knee-high black boots, with a buckle around each, one of them holding a dagger. Her hands were clad in finger-less gloves, adorned by the skeleton of human hands in their backs. Clarke realised that the girl was more important than she had judged her to be.

The girl nodded respectfully at Clarke and sat down in the vacant chair across from the blonde. The two remained there, seated and staring at one another curiously, until the girl cleared her throat and broke the silence.

"May I know your name?"

A soft and gentle voice, exactly what Clarke had imagined coming from such plump lips and more. "Only if you tell me yours," Clarke replied with a quirking eyebrow.

The girl responded with a cocking brow of her own. "I believe I asked first."

"I'm extremely persuasive," Clarke quipped.

If the girl reacted in any way to Clarke's words, she did not show it. While her piercing green eyes were curious and luminous and studious, her facial expression was utterly unreadable.

Finally, a smirked tugged at the girl's lips. “My name is Lexa kom Trikru, and I suggest you leave this bar now if you wish to be out of harm’s way.”

Clarke scoffed; she could not believe that the girl was kicking her out of the bar. “What, are you going to hurt me if I don’t?”

The girl’s eyes widened in shock. “Not at all,” she denied softly. “I am only saying this for your safety.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t need a knight in shining armour to protect me.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at Clarke but eventually nodded. “I guess not. Good luck, then.” With one last respectful nod, she stood up and spoke to the whole room, voice loud and commanding: “We can start.”

Everybody stood up from their tables with a roar and punches and kicks started flying everywhere. Clarke ducked under the table, hoping to escape the ruckus that had just burst around the bar, and her gaze found Lexa, getting rid of men twice her size like it took no effort at all.

Fists hit jaws, feet hit shins, people tackled other people, hairs were tugged, noses were broken, and blood started flowing. It was not brutal, Clarke realised, as she noted that no weapons were being used. Everyone battled everyone only with what the gods had given them at birth.

Then she saw it.

Silver, polished, glinting almost, a blade was drawn and readjusted to the hand, ready to slice into flesh. Clarke’s eyes flew to the man’s face and followed his line of sight and movement.

Lexa.

With less than a second to think, Clarke latched onto the first idea that popped into her brain. In a swift motion, she drew her gun and aimed it at the man.

Clarke pulled the trigger twice. The man fell down. Everyone stopped. The room fell silent. Everyone stopped and stared, fists hanging mid-air.

Lexa's fist hung in the air, her other hand clutching a man's shirt, and her eyes locked onto Clarke's. Dumbfounded at first, then her face contorted into shock, and then rage. Lexa dropped the man she had just been about to knock out and walked to Clarke in powerful strides. The blonde looked at her own hand, bewildered at what she had done.

Clarke had shot that gun, at a man, and she was having a hard time believing it herself. To everyone's surprise, Clarke was the first to fall on her knees beside the man and inspect his wound. She had hit him in the arm, so thankfully nothing too serious.

The gun was roughly snatched from her hand.

"We don't use rayguns here," Lexa grunted, all bared teeth and threatening demeanour. She handed the gun to a burly man with a long beard and face tattoos to inspect, then turned to the fallen man. "Teik em gon won fisa!" Lexa yelled at the men around the injured, and they were quick to obey, taking him away.

Clarke stood up and faced the man who had her gun. "Give me that," she demanded as he inspected it.

Suddenly something caught his attention and he spat to the floor. "Skaikru," he grunted like it was utterly disgusting.

Everyone in the bar roared in disgust. Lexa's head snapped to Clarke, eyes ablaze. "What are you doing here?"

Clarke stood strong, unwilling to show fear or nervousness. "My name is Clarke Griffin and I'm looking for Heda."

The brunette let out a mirthless laugh. "You found me. Now go."

Clarke's eyes widened impossibly. Lexa was— "You're a bounty hunter?!"

Lexa snorted at the shocked reaction. "Yes, why? Not savage enough for you?" She took the gun from the burly man and handed it to Clarke. "Leave."

"But I—"

"Have you not done damage enough, Skaikru branwada?" Lexa growled, cutting Clarke off. "You brought a raygun to a fistfight! Now go before I cut you in half, Skayon."

"Wait!" Clarke tried one last time, desperate for Lexa's help. "I did save your life. You owe me one."

Lexa's men took immediate offence and unsheathed their blades, ready to charge against the blonde girl. Lexa held up a hand. "Stop!" Everyone halted, waiting expectantly for their leader's next words. "She is right," Lexa conceded, not taking curious green eyes off Clarke. "I do owe her my life." Then she spoke directly to Clarke. "Follow me."

Clarke followed Lexa to a room in the back. Pillows and rugs were sprawled in a corner, possibly Lexa's resting place. They stopped and stood in the middle of the room, where the conversation would take place. Lexa brought a pensive hand to rest under her chin in a loose fist.

"I thought it would be best to talk in private, since you seem intent on wasting my time."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice. You're the one who's been rude to me ever since I got here."

Lexa raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You're the one who came into my bar with a gun."

"I'm also the one who saved your life."

A smirk ghosted over Lexa's unmoving lips. She clasped both hands behind her back and stood straighter. This position made her almost tower over Clarke, even though she was merely a couple of inches taller than the blonde.

"You have something to say to me, Clarke kom Skaikru? Besides insulting me, that is," she added with the quirk of an eyebrow, and once again her lips smirked without moving.

Clarke took this as the moment to talk business. "I came to ask you for a favour."

"I don't do charity."

"I figured as much, so I brought money with me," Clarke argued, showing her pouch. "But since you owe me one, I reckon I'll get to save it for another time."

Lexa seemed unfazed. "I'm still waiting for an offer, Clarke." The blonde ignored how something stirred inside her at hearing Lexa say her name.

"I need you to help me find someone. This Emori girl said you were the best."

"And I am," Lexa nodded calmly. "But I have no time for love quests."

"That's not it," Clarke countered, frustrated that she was not being able to get her point across. "I'm looking for a woman. Her name is Hera kom Trikru and she's going to help me save my people."

Lexa's eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but her mask slips back on not a second later. "What makes you so sure of that?"

"I know she will. I  _know_ her."

Lexa rolled her eyes. "Your belief in human nature is naïve at best."

The brunette's answered stung, but Clarke did not falter nor let her nerves show. Tired of the games, she decided to get straight to the point. "Look, will you help me or not?"

"Do you have any idea how to find her?"

First obstacle. "Not really, but— last time I saw her was sixteen years ago, so she should be twenty-four now. She has brown hair and green eyes, like yours," Clarke added with interest, "and a necklace like this one, " she showed the girl her red necklace, "but blue. My orb and hers fuse together when in close proximity."

Lexa let silence fall over them, seeming to ponder on the possibilities. Clarke was impatient and did not feel like waiting, but she knew she had to respect the bounty hunter's need to think about Clarke's proposal. A throat was cleared and Clarke looked up to find Lexa staring at her, waiting to talk, a glint of amusement in those remarkable green eyes.

"So you want me to find a girl," Lexa started summing it up, "who you knew sixteen years ago, based on a ridiculously vague description and some ugly magical necklace?"

"And her name," Clarke insisted, seeing how she was running out of chances. "And she has a scar in the back of her neck."

"Oh," Lexa smirked, "we're definitely sure to find her now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Think of Stadhouder as a mix of Nassau on Black Sails and Polis on The 100.
> 
> In the beginning, Clarke's people are the Sky Democratic Federation and the planet is called Arkadia. Hera and her parent's people are Trikru and her planet is Polis (the capital is TonDC). Lexa is also Trikru, as well as her bounty hunter troupe.
> 
> I'm so uncreative with planet names xD well here's the Trig:  
> hosh - quiet, hush  
> hona - hunter (bounty hunter would be koma hona)  
> Fos - First  
> Skaistrecha - Spacewalker (Skywalker technically, but for the Grounders sky and space are the same thing)  
> sonchagon - raygun  
> Ripa - killer  
> Teik em gon won fisa - Take him to a healer
> 
> Also, some 'space notions':  
> Synchroverse HyperCloak (SHC) Stealth Jet: the jet Clarke takes from the Ark  
> UPS - Universal Positioning System (basically a universal GPS)  
> UF - United Frontier (the bad guys — you will know more about them in later chapters)
> 
> Fun fact: fate is supernaturally dictated and beyond the control of mortals. Destiny implies an outcome predetermined by a set of events which, once put into motion, move inexorably forward. With this concept, humans have a hand in events, but only to get the ball rolling (there's the possibility of multiple branches). Source: http://www.differencebetween.net/miscellaneous/difference-between-fate-and-destiny/#ixzz4904taRzD


End file.
